


Metamorphic

by Rubynye



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello, beautiful."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metamorphic

**Author's Note:**

> All Thanks To: [](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/profile)[**jim_and_bones**](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/) , for whom I wrote this a million hours ago.  
>  _Disclaimer:_ This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit. Additional RPS disclaimer: This is not true and has no bearing on the actual people depicted therein.  
> 

Between filming schedules and publicity schedules and different continents and all that jazz, they've hardly seen each other in awhile, let alone done... this anytime in the last few whenevers. What with his bit of downtime recently, Chris's gotten a little scruffy, and Karl seems to like it... except that one morning on his way out the door to some meeting, Karl trails two fingertips along the margin of Chris's beard, down from the hinge of his jaw to the corner of his mouth.

Chris bites playfully at Karl's fingers, laughing as Karl smirks and pulls away, but what he saw in the depths of Karl's green-and-glitter eyes has got him thinking. He's got most of what he needs here, in the bathroom cabinets and in the back of the closet, even the shoes. A quick trip out for the rest does double duty to sate the paps and fix his scruffy image in their flat little heads, and then he can spend the afternoon prepping his way into the evening's role. When he's ready he calls his favorite livery service, the one with actually discreet drivers, and the last thing he does before he leaves his apartment is to text Karl -- "Mahoney's, 8:30, ;)", and to rescue the hat from getting caught in the door.

* *** * 

Karl would rather have peeled out of this monkey suit hours ago in favor of broken-in denim and a quiet night in, but the outfit's part of the game he recognized in Chris's sideways smiley-face. It's a warm night, saved from mugginess by a light breeze, and the cheerfully noisy crowd at Mahoney's has spilled out to the patio, but there's still a quiet corner to be found if a body knows where to look. As he wends his way Karl smiles at fellow veterans and doesn't make a fuss at the flash of a cellphone camera or two -- it's on the way out he'll need to avoid being seen, but this place has more exits than the obvious. That's one reason Chris likes it.

There's also the drama factor, Karl thinks, smiling as he rounds a corner screened by potted palms and finds what he's been looking for tucked beneath a broad-brimmed silver silk hat. Long feet in matching silver pumps, mile-long sleek-skinned legs crossed at the knee under a short blue skirt just fluttery enough to flirt with the breeze, a long sculpted arm draped over the back of the seat, wrist ringed in delicate silver bracelets as if to make up for the heavy watch that usually sits there. The languid hand even features a neat French manicure, freshly applied.

"Hello, beautiful," Karl drawls, dragging out his accent, watching the silver hat tip back to reveal the full sky-blue sheath dress, the smooth strong jaw and glistening lips and smoke-ringed, sparkling blue eyes as Chris smiles up at him. "That seat taken?"

"It is now," Chris says, soft raspy voice from that pretty glossy mouth, veiling his eyes with long thickened lashes and looking up again as his head tips a little further back. "I saved it just for you."

* *** * 

They stumble blindly into Karl's place, laughing into each other's mouths, Chris tripping backwards over his high heels, Karl groping and tugging and squeezing him all over, stroking the dress, shoving it up, rummaging under it to grip and stroke Chris's skin. Chris slams against a wall, clutching Karl's bicep to hold himself up, and Karl shrugs his jacket off with a muscular roll of his shoulder; Chris lets it drop as he tucks his hand behind Karl's neck, dense trimmed hair under his fingertips and Karl's tongue fucking his mouth and Karl's insistent hands clawing down everything he's wearing under the dress.

Chris can't stop laughing triumphantly as he rummages the lube out one-handed and lets the little clutch fall, as Karl shoves his knee up and he hooks his leg around Karl's waist in self-defense, as Karl crushes the little tube open and douses Chris from balls to thighs in shock-chill lube. He gasps at that, he groans when Karl's firm fingers smear warmth into the lube as they rub it up Chris's dick, under his balls and around his hole and sinking into him hard and slick, but between ragged breaths and deep plunging licks Chris laughs and whimpers and laughs. Karl rumbles something unintelligible into his mouth and then he just rumbles, fumbling his pants open, slapping Chris's helpful fingers away, tips Chris's hips just how he wants them and pushes into him, one fast thick slide of tingling searing glory.

Chris wobbles on tiptoe, slippery shoe sliding beneath him, and Karl huffs under his weight and shoves him harder against the wall and pounds him righteously, their mouths crushed together. Karl's glowing through his crumpled shirt, his warm cologne and warmer sweat rising off his heated skin, Chris's dick is caught between their bellies in damp silky folds, and it's so goddamn good, it always is. Chris hangs on tight and rocks into the thrusts until Karl's knees wobble beneath them, until Karl rips his mouth away to groan up against the hinge of Chris's jaw, swearing fervently with each shudder as he comes.

Chris gulps air, laughter still sparking behind his eyes, and Karl's fingers curling around his achingly ready dick drive his breath back out of him in a needy woosh. Karl strokes even as his knees give out and they slide down the wall, and Chris laughs breathlessly when his ass hits the floor, moaning into it as Karl bites his neck but still laughing as he thrusts into Karl's fist and squeezes around Karl still inside him, red light pouring across the insides of his eyelids as he comes into the wet silk skirt of his dress.

Karl mumbles into Chris's cheek, and Chris coughs up an inquisitive noise between winded chuckles; Karl kisses him there and heaves a few breaths and finally manages to say, "Damn, you're gorgeous." Chris cracks an eye, cracking a smile, and Karl's eyes are heavy-lidded before his, dark and warmly appreciative as Karl slides a hand up Chris's dress-wrapped side, up his back and over his cheek like he's searching for the missing beard, tracing the same line from the morning. "So fucking gorgeous," Karl whispers, almost brokenly, and Chris grins wider right up until he presses their mouths together again.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: The original one: I have no earthly idea where this came from, but I've been having trouble writing lately, so I figured I'd go with it.  
> An additional one: I'm still a little weirded out by this story, but what the hey. Have some porn on a Saturday.


End file.
